


Darkness in the Light

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dark, Deepthroating, Deity John, Dubious Consent, Graphic Description, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Pheromones, Rape/Non-con Elements, So not canon compliant, Virgin Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4616760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is no ordinary man, indeed, he is no man at all. In this life he lives with a young detective by the name of Sherlock Holmes, and the time has finally arrived for John to reach out and claim utterly that which he wants, his very own one and only consulting detective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness in the Light

**Author's Note:**

> There were a lot of reasons for writing this but as always it boils down to "can I do this?" and as always the answer is "Yes, yes I can." There are a lot of dark aspects worked into this but as with so many of my stories I am yet again exploring a possible beginning for my favoritest pair in the history of ever.
> 
> MyfirstistheFourth, thank you for the time you took to beta this even though you're extremely busy. You are an absolute angel.

The thing with being a deity in the age of reason was that nobody worshipped you anymore. Yes they went to churches and paid lip service to their paper gods but no one went to the ancient groves and _worshipped_ the way they did in the old days of blood, sex, and sacrifice. He missed it, he really did. Every few decades or so he would manifest himself somewhere and live a bit of an ordinary life, just blending in with the people because humans were tragic and intriguing. John didn’t want to fall out of touch with them like _some_ gods he could name.

This time he was a doctor, and because he liked the excitement of a good battle, he was a soldier too. Of course there were downsides to being temporarily mortal but John pragmatically took the downs with the ups and let each manifestation run its course. He was having a good time anyway, even with the bum arm and the trick leg. He’d met someone; someone fascinating, and unbalanced, and completely, irresponsibly insane. John loved him and decided to keep him. His name was Sherlock Holmes and he was one of the loveliest creatures John had set eyes on for centuries.

Sherlock had played a rather nasty trick on John, who though while a god, wasn’t omniscient. He hadn’t realized that Sherlock wasn’t actually dead, wishing for nearly three years that his manifestation would just expire already. He was tired of this life, especially after Sherlock took all the fun out of it by apparently dying. John had tried dating, even going so far as getting married to… to… what was her name? John was already forgetting. She had been a diversion anyway, part of a larger gambit that had ended mere months after Sherlock’s miraculous return to life. Oh well, her name wasn’t important.

John had plans for tonight and watching Sherlock petulantly stomp his way back into their flat was just the first step. Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Turner were gone, John had arranged for them to win a trip out of town. Mrs. Turner’s married ones were away at one of the many conferences they attended, so the entirety of 221 Baker Street was empty. _Perfect_. He was going to enjoy this and with a private smile he began.

One of the things John could do was control the pheromones he emitted. Maybe it was a bit of a cheat but he liked sex and it was always best with a willing partner…even if they weren’t willing in the beginning. The second he locked the door to seal them in with a silently muttered word of invocation a sweet musky scent began to fill the flat. John went about like normal, just making tea and putting together a small meal as it drifted around and began to fill all the spaces of their home. They changed into their pyjamas, neither man planning to leave unless a case came up, not that one would. John smiled, sometimes he could _arrange_ things to suit his needs. The meal was necessary. It would take a bit for Sherlock’s self-control to break down and the detective would need all the calories he could get inside him. When he brought Sherlock his tea he made sure to lightly touch the brunet’s fingers, just a small electric touch that made the brilliant man aware of John’s presence, and with a repressed thrill John noted Sherlock’s nostrils flare the tiniest bit as he inhaled. “Ten minutes more.” he nodded toward the kitchen and involuntarily Sherlock looked up into John’s eyes. The god allowed his intended only a hint of a hint of what waited for him to show in his gaze and was pleased with the small blush that crept onto Sherlock’s confused face.

John finished cooking and exactly ten minutes later Sherlock was seated at the table dining quietly. John’s pheromones hung heavily in the air now and he watched as Sherlock’s eyes dilated a small amount, how restless he was becoming even as he continued to eat. _A virgin_. John hadn’t had a virgin in so long! Anticipation was building as he sat back and continued to wait. He could afford patience, he had all the time in the world.

*   *   *

Sherlock felt warm. He checked the thermostat but unless it was seriously damaged it was room temperature despite how his skin seemed to be heating up. There was a delicious scent in the air and at first he thought John had made some kind of elaborate meal but whatever it was he could smell wasn’t from the food. He couldn’t help but drag in one delectable lungful after another and it was affecting him, he knew it was. His transport was giving him all kinds of signals and, true to his nature, Sherlock fought them. He’d always been attracted to John but until tonight he’d been able to firmly repress his urge to initiate anything deeper than friendship.

Each bite of the meal seemed to make the problem worse. Sherlock couldn’t keep still. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable…and aroused. As soon as his tea was done Sherlock fled to the front room where he could swear John practically _stalked_ after him. A frisson of fear ran up his spine and with a bit of trepidation he looked at his best friend. Sherlock relaxed, it was just _John_ , good old plain unintimidating John. Sherlock sat on the sofa but to his surprise John sat with him. The distracting scent in the air grew stronger. He was going to mention it except John turned the laptop on, “Let’s watch _Cosmos_ ,” he said cheerily, “Back to back episodes, what do you think?”

Well, Sherlock did enjoy that show a great deal and seeing so many concepts visualized was intriguing so there was nothing to complain about, “Alright.” John got the first episode started and slumped back against the cushions to begin watching. Still a little uneasy and not sure why, Sherlock leaned back as well and tried to pay attention. He couldn’t focus nor could he get comfortable. “My back hurts.” he complained. He’d intended to lay down to relax but John was entitled to sit on their sofa as much as he was and this way they could both see the laptop easily.

“Yeah? Well, I am a doctor. Go on Sherlock. _Face down_.” John’s voice started off cheery as always but the last two words felt…commanding. Another frisson of fear jolted through him but at the same time he found himself unable to resist, turning even as John spoke. John shifted off the sofa completely and somewhat awkwardly Sherlock arranged himself, one leg hanging off the edge, the other bent up against the padded armrest so his foot waved in the air. He felt a bit of shock when John knelt over his thigh and unceremoniously pushed his shirt up, “This will help.”

For the first time ever John Watson rubbed Sherlock’s back, it was marvelous and terrifying at the same time. _John was touching him_ , the motions of his fingers anything but clinical, small sensual circles were easing the tension out of the muscles along his spine and transferring it to a particular set of muscles in his groin. Sherlock was becoming aroused and alarmed. “I think I’m good John.”

His friend seemed to misunderstand the urgency in his voice, “Just a bit more then I’ll have done your entire back.” Sherlock couldn’t protest. It did feel divine and his lower back had been aching for weeks now it seemed. John worked his way lower and lower, startling Sherlock out of his relaxed stupor when the doctor tugged his pyjama bottoms off his hips and buttocks to work very professional fingers into the meaty flesh. “You’re wound up like a clockwork.” said John, his voice thoughtful, “You need to stretch out, come on. _Off to bed_.”

Once again the voice of command was irresistible. Sherlock barely hiked his bottoms up enough to make it decently to his bedroom. Startled, he found he had lain himself face down on his expensive duvet while he listened to John go up to his bedroom and return again, “Just some things to ease the way.” said the doctor. John then dropped his robe, now wearing only briefs and a vest.

Sherlock swallowed hard but said nothing as John tugged away his clothes leaving him entirely bare. John resumed his position kneeling behind Sherlock, his hands now slick with some kind of scented oil. Sherlock thought of lavender but there was a dark note he could not identify. John slicked Sherlock’s entire back, including his buttocks, before using long smooth passes with the heel of his hand to slide up and down the entire expanse. Each time John reached Sherlock’s behind his fingers dug in, spreading Sherlock’s cheeks a tiny bit. The flash of cool air against his anus was startling and far more arousing than he would ever have guessed, the unfortunate condition in his groin returning with force. Sherlock felt himself harden all the way, the steady rhythm of John’s motions making Sherlock skin feel the decadent fabric intently. “My legs are sore too.” _Why had he said that?_

“Oh? Well since I’m here…” John began to work on Sherlock’s thighs, palms sliding inward, seeming to ignore the fact that the backs of his hands were brushing against Sherlock’s testicles over and over again. The kneading and spreading of his cheeks seemed to be an ongoing part of the legwork as well, his hips were pushed down in a slow tortuous rhythm until Sherlock found he was biting back soft moans and trying to control his breathing. The scent in the air grew muskier, thicker, and Sherlock’s unwanted arousal began to grow severe. “Spread your legs a bit.” Sherlock felt his legs pull apart, “Wait, this will feel better.” John snagged a spare pillow and made Sherlock raise his hips to stuff it under them. Now he was spread wide, entirely naked, and John’s hands were sliding up and down the backs of his thighs, spreading wide over each cheek to squeeze and release before sliding back down again. “I’ll get your back again.” _Was John’s voice getting deeper? Rougher? It had almost sounded like he’d growled the words instead of speaking_.

Sherlock bit back another moan as John slowly slid his still wide-spread fingers over his bottom and up along either side of his spine. John then dragged the tips of his fingers on the way down, digging them in just a bit; Sherlock trembled because it felt amazing, as if eight lines of heat had been scribed into his back and oh…over his behind. John’s hips were snugged just behind his arse, if he shifted an inch or two closer they’d be pressed together, Sherlock suddenly felt the urge to push back and make contact. He resisted, trying to focus on something else.

*   *   *

John was losing control over his manifestation and his aspects were beginning to show. His shoulders broadened and the carefully hidden musculature of a warrior god was revealed. The hair on his chest thickened, narrowing down into a definite trail that led all the way to the more than generous endowment that at least was being obediently quiescent. His teeth sharpened just a bit, Sherlock was absolutely lovely, so tender, so innocent, so unsuspecting! It was delicious. John could smell the arousal grow, knew that Sherlock was erect, and had deliberately teased him by keeping the pressure just slightly less firm than would be completely satisfying.

Sherlock was entirely delectable. He smelled sweet and fresh, untainted, untouched. John was nearly drooling as he admired the long lean lines of the man beneath him. It wouldn’t be long now and John’s cock twitched in anticipation for the moment that was almost upon him. Sherlock was brilliant, he wouldn’t be fooled forever. Deliberately John allowed his hands to wander down to Sherlock’s arse, spreading him wider than before, watching as the unexplored hole twitched as cool air washed over him. He was tensing even now so John let one hand slide up Sherlock’s spine and the other to wander over Sherlock’s arse in a blatant caress.

“John, what are you doing?” Terror raced through the detective as all the evidence screamed the truth of his current situation.

John’s fingers closed around the back of the detective’s neck, pushing him down even as he trapped Sherlock’s legs beneath him so the man could not move. He was pinned in place, exposed for John’s lascivious touch. “I think you know what I’m doing,” growled John as he leaned down, letting a droplet of spittle fall from his mouth to land right on Sherlock’s anus.

“John! I must ask you to…” the panic in Sherlock’s voice was real and without his permission John’s cock began to swell.

“To fuck you? Alright Sherlock, if you insist.” John’s finger swirled around Sherlock’s pucker, “I’d love to fuck you. I’m getting hard for you right now and you’re hard for me already, admit it.”

“I am no such thing John! Get o….” John reached down and under Sherlock, rubbing his hand over the steely shaft the detective was denying, “John?”

The last of John’s glamour burned away and his manifestation took on the last of his godly aspects. John’s skin gleamed a pale gold, ancient symbols of power tattooed to his immortal skin. His back and shoulders were covered with a light pelt of fur and John knew his eyes would look like blue fire. John licked his lips, his tongue so long that he licked his chin and a bit of his cheeks as well. “You’re already spread so nicely for me Sherlock, I’m sure you won’t mind if I help myself a bit.”

Shuffling back while holding the lightly struggling man down easily, John arched over and licked the crack of Sherlock’s arse without warning. “John!” shouted the detective, “John you must….”

John cut him off again. “Deeper already? I haven’t even started!” He smiled devilishly as he allowed his wiggling tongue to penetrate Sherlock’s body. His tongue was something special. Currently narrow, almost snake-like, but as soon as he had it buried deep inside his flatmate’s frankly scrumptious arse, his tongue began to thicken and grow wider. John pumped it in and out, licking Sherlock in the filthiest manner, making the little bud blossom. Sherlock was struggling to get away but that only made the natural predator that John was even harder. “So good!” he moaned appreciatively, “Here.”

Effortlessly John flipped Sherlock over and kissed him on the mouth. Sherlock jerked away, trying to escape but John held him easily. “No one…has ever…” Sherlock was gasping out words between kisses, “John what happened to you?” Sherlock took in his flatmate’s altered appearance, “You’re an animal!”

“I’m a _god_.” said John calmly, “I claim you as tribute. You are about to offer your pretty arse on the altar of my cock.”

“Virgin sacrifice,” said Sherlock faintly, “I’m a _virgin_ sacrifice.”

“ _Oh yes_.”

“There isn’t any such thing as a god. You must be a mutation of some sort. I’ll need samples.” John laughed softly. Trust Sherlock to try to verify the facts despite how he was laid out and being tasted.

“I’m about to leave some samples inside you.” Sherlock’s face turned scarlet. “But before that you’re going to suck my cock. I know you’re smart, you’ll make it good for me. Go on Sherlock, _suck it_.”

“I most certainly will not.” Sherlock was indignant.

“You most certainly _will_. You want to. Your mouth is made to have a cock in it. Don’t try to hide from me, I’ve noticed how you’ve looked at me.” Sherlock’s blush deepened. “You want to. You’re curious. Don’t you want to know what a god’s cock looks like? What it tastes like? I know I want to see it rubbing over those sinful lips of yours.”

“John.” said Sherlock weakly.

“I want you to fuck your face on my cock. _On your knees Sherlock_. I want you to suck my cock like the little trollop I know you secretly are.” Sherlock’s reaction to John’s words was dramatic. He paled then flushed then paled again but his erection only grew, a small clear droplet of precum escaping and signaling his increasingly powerful arousal.

John released Sherlock and stood on the area carpet to strip off the last of his clothing. The detective climbed off the bed and with obvious reluctance knelt in front of John. No matter what his reservations were Sherlock’s penis was thrusting eagerly into the air, delightfully large, the head nicely flared and his testicles full and plump looking. “You’re hairy. Your foreskin is unusually long.” he complained.

“I can dock you later if you want but right now I want you to open that smart mouth of yours and see how much of my cock you can get in there.” Sherlock blushed perfectly, still his lips parted and he leaned in to take John’s partially hardened cock between his lips. John released a satisfied sigh as he felt the warm wet heat begin to envelop him. Taking Sherlock’s head in his hands John pulled him close, pushing the head of his cock in slowly until Sherlock gagged, “Good boy, relax your throat, go on, you can do it.” The pheromones would make Sherlock’s body pliant, able to withstand the demands about to be placed upon it. “You’ve got a long neck, I should be able to get my entire cock in there.” Not when it was fully erect, but John could keep himself partially unaroused just to enjoy how Sherlock’s eyes widened. John’s cock was still very thick as well as long. Sherlock was struggling to admit even the first few inches and he had much _much_ more to deal with. John pushed in again and again, Sherlock gagging each time. John would let him recover but only for a moment, massaging Sherlock’s throat with his hand until one inch after another he coaxed his long cock all the way in. Sherlock’s eyes were streaming with tears, his face was a blotchy red, his lips stretched thin and wide. John had never seen a lovelier sight and held himself deep until Sherlock was on the edge of oxygen deprivation. He pulled out and Sherlock sagged weakly back against the bed, panting hard. “Gorgeous.”

John was strong. He lifted Sherlock right off the floor and tossed him lightly to the bed.  He gave him no time to speak, burying his face between Sherlock arse cheeks once more, this time making sure he was as stretched as he was slick. He loved the taste of humans, they were so sweet, tangy. Sherlock’s hole was delightfully tight, his reluctance only making him taste better. John licked and licked until that same tight pucker was loose, nearly dripping with spit, the smooth passage clutching at John’s long tongue greedily. _Oh yes, Sherlock was ready_.

John pulled Sherlock from the bed and stood him against his door, palms pressed to the wood, his feet wide apart so his hips were low enough for John to nestle behind him. “I’m going to fuck you Sherlock, and you’re going to come.”

“Yes John.” Sherlock’s legs were trembling and he kept thrusting his arse out. John grinned once again and stepped closer still. Holding his now massive member in his hand John allowed the generous drip of his pre-come to add to the slickness. This was his favorite part, the very best part next to the actual orgasm. It was time to take Sherlock’s virginity.

*   *   *

Sherlock was in a state of disbelieving shock. Why wasn’t he fighting John? Why wasn’t he stopping things from progressing, why was he allowing this _creature_ to touch him? John claimed he was a god and Sherlock almost believed him, especially when something long, wet, and very lively crept into his arse and made his insides turn into molten metal. John was _licking_ his arse _and_ _in no way could his tongue be ordinary!_ The scent in the air made him feel weak and suggestible, was he drugged? John’s appearance was a shock too. The small man was broader, shaggier, he glowed in the dimness, his animal qualities looking somehow natural on him, a correct look for John, who had always been dangerous no matter his appearance. His eyes were the most disturbing, they seemed to speak of eons of time, vast pieces of history, of eternity. He was growling as well, rudely snuffling and slurping as he plundered.

Sherlock didn’t know how to react. He’d never wanted sex, never gave it any serious thought. John’s tongue seemed to pulse and swell inside him, making him slick with saliva as the scent in the air grew so heavy he was beginning to feel dizzy. It felt weird and alien, he wanted it out of his body just as much as he wanted it to go deeper, harder. He felt his flesh give way, opening up, relaxing, and becoming hungry for more. Sherlock wanted to stroke his cock but somehow he knew he wasn’t allowed, he didn’t understand how or why he knew, but he did.

John was so strong! Sherlock felt as light as a feather when the normally diminutive man nearly lifted him off the mattress unexpectedly and made him stand against the door, his backside pulled out, his legs spread, and his hands high. Vulnerable. When he heard John speak he answered without hesitation, “Yes John.”

John was growling again, almost purring as he rubbed the massive cockhead against Sherlock’s entrance. Closing his eyes the detective swallowed hard again, his throat sore from John’s invasion. He felt John’s cock nudge hard, and then harder still. Startling shocks of sensation made him twitch, his hips shaking as John reared back and gave a shallow thrust, “I’m leaking all over you and it’s beautiful. I’m going to be able to fuck you so…fucking… _hard_.” John pulled back, the flare of the glans catching at Sherlock’s rim, “So tight.” The beast thrust a bit more, “You’ll never be able to say _that_ again.”

John shoved hard and Sherlock’s back arched defensively as his body was forced to accept something far too large. John’s hands were gripping Sherlock’s hips so hard he wasn’t sure the god hadn’t broken skin. He wasn’t giving Sherlock any leeway to move on his own, making him take the huge cock by pulling and pushing him back and forth rudely while grinding his hips upwards cruelly. “It hurts!” Sherlock arched away again to no avail. It felt like he was at the limit his body could yield, the pressures and stresses almost too much to deal with. The amount of sensation was shocking as John made Sherlock’s hips ride back and forth, taking control of his flesh and using it to pleasure himself.

“No it doesn’t. It feels strange but you love it, you’re practically eating my cock up, your arse is begging for it.” John pulled out all the way and rubbed his cock in circles around the tender rim, smearing his pre-come liberally before simply pushing in hard, burying at least half his generous length between those plush cheeks. Sherlock moaned deeply, ashamed of himself for giving in so easily, “Yeah, look at you. You _wanted_ this didn’t you, wanted someone to just fuck you already. You _prayed_ for it.” John pulled out all the way, tormenting Sherlock with another rubbing tease before plowing in deeper than before. The shock of it made him cry out but Sherlock heard nothing but pleasure in his own voice. John _hurt_ going in but each thrust was better than the last, and now something wonderful was happening.

John’s cock pulsed. It was the single most unexpected thing Sherlock had ever experienced. His shaft was so thick, almost raspy with veins, but the vibrations were unmistakable. John was growling loudly, grunting a bit each time he thrust until finally he shoved his entire over-sized member into Sherlock’s body. John let go of Sherlock’s hips and rocked his own, the detective well and truly impaled, completely helpless, “Feels good doesn’t it? I know you love what’s happening. You’re too caught up in that marvelous mind of yours, you forget what your body can do. I’m going to remind you because this is what you’re going to be _best at_ from now on. I’m going to make you my living fuck toy, whenever I want I’m going to put this,” John swiveled his hips hard and Sherlock gasped as his massive penis gyrated inside him, “In here, and I’m not going to care where we are. I can find an alley or an empty room almost anywhere and if I want my come dripping from your arse all day long, that’s what’s going to happen.”

Sherlock had never felt so helpless, so out of control. There was nothing he could do, nothing to say to make this not be happening. When he realized there were no choices to be made Sherlock found himself relaxing, his head hanging a bit even as his feet settled into a better position to deal with how deeply John was in him. _John was a god and he had chosen Sherlock to service his body_. Despite the discomfort it actually did feel rather wonderful to be taken in hand, to have all the trouble of deciding taken away from him because John was the one in charge, “Yes John.”

“Good boy, that’s my good boy.” Embarrassment made Sherlock’s cheeks red. He wasn’t a _boy_! John stroked his back almost tenderly, “I’m _immortal_ my wild beauty, you are so young…so deliciously young, why, you haven’t even lived half a century yet. Your body is perfectly ripe, strong, and so untouched. Irresistible, I should have had you right away. You never would have gotten mixed up with that mess that took you away. I’m going to enjoy you for as long as I can, and I’m going to be the only one who ever gets to use your body like this. _This is my command Sherlock_. You are mine, not one other person male or female will ever be allowed to have you.”

John pulled his cock out slowly, enjoying the sight of the wide head slipping out of Sherlock’s glistening hole, the dark pink cavern hiding itself away almost the instant John’s body was free of it. He turned Sherlock around to face him. Pushing him hard against the door John yanked up Sherlock’s left leg and followed with his right leg so that he was holding the detective up. He shimmied his hips a bit, his thick cock swaying until he managed to get it into place. Without ado John thrust inward as hard as he could. Sherlock was so tight, so beautifully inexperienced. John couldn’t wait to teach him all the debauched things he enjoyed but tonight was about _ownership_. The very first lesson his pet needed to learn was that John _owned_ him. He wasn’t expecting to hear a sobbing gasp, “Yes, please John, yes. That’s what I want.”

Sherlock’s arms and legs were wrapping around his vast body without hesitation and John was now the one groaning as Sherlock pushed himself down hard onto his cock, nearly writhing between the god and the door at his back as he worked his hips. “You little _tart_ ,” breathed John with appreciation, “That’s it little one, fuck yourself on it, enjoy it.”

John grasped Sherlock, one hand on each generous cheek and carried him to the bed. Laying himself back John smirked up at the tall man above him, “Go on, show me how much you love it.”

Sherlock flushed red all over again but did as he was told. John’s cock still felt too large, almost agonizingly so but it was also sinfully good, the endless pre-come the god produced making Sherlock’s ass slippery and increasingly wet sounding. Sherlock found John’s altered visage to be wondrous and eagerly he leaned it to kiss those thin spare lips, “I’ll do anything you want John.” he promised feverishly. John was divine. He was incredible. He was also completely correct. As much as Sherlock loved to figure out puzzles, to solve crimes, to learn more, he had indeed forgotten what his body was capable of. John knew him better than anyone, understood him more completely than anyone at all, that’s why Sherlock had come back. He’d come back for John. He hadn’t understood the messages his body was giving him, but John did. No matter what Sherlock said, John knew this was what he needed, and gratefully Sherlock took it.

He began by attempting to rock his hips, needing to adjust his position several times before he could move with relative ease. The discomfort had fled and Sherlock wondered if there was something about John’s cock that had made that happen. “I would never damage you,” vowed the god, “Oh I’ll hurt you, but you will love the kind of pain I’ll tease you with, but I’ll never damage that sweet body, I promise.”

_Good enough._

Sherlock spread his fingers over his abdomen and pressed hard. He could almost feel the way John’s body invaded his, the impossibly large shaft and head growing even bigger than when Sherlock had fellated him. Now it was tremendous, he could barely lift himself enough to enjoy the full length of it. He felt his insides welcome John, the warm weird pulsing of the god’s member making him feel feverish all over again, “My god!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, _your god_.” John thrust up, just a bit, but it was enough to make Sherlock almost yelp, “Pretty sounds...you make pretty sounds.” muttered the god, his voice even rougher than before. Sherlock’s back arched and John let his hands wander up the lean body, stroking over his pale skin, his arousal making each delicate caress intense. “I’m here to give you what you need.”

John rolled them over easily, forcing Sherlock’s legs high and wide. His cock lay flush against his belly, his testicles tight and heavy at the same time. “That’s it pet, feel that work into you. You feel good, the best bit of ass I’ve had in a long time.” Sherlock’s face grew pink with a different sort of pleasure and John recalled Sherlock’s great weakness, his vanity, “Your skin is as delicious as it is beautiful, expect me to kiss it a lot. Your mouth is perfect, the next time you use it to be nasty to someone I’m going to do something nasty to it in return, would you like that pet?”

Sherlock suddenly envisioned being forced to his knees in barely hidden locations, John’s cock being shoved deep into his mouth, down his throat, his divine seed sliding over his tongue, perhaps spilling onto his chin, dripping onto his bespoke clothing. A surge of pure lust made him arch back again, desperately canting his hips to try and rock John deeper still, “Yes John. Yes I would like that.”

“Oh you are going to be such a good pet. I’m glad I’m keeping you.” John decided to keep Sherlock for as long as he was interesting. Eternal life wasn’t so very difficult to grant, and the man was so fascinating that his beauty came second, and that arse! John wasn’t lying, Sherlock’s arse was sublime, he’d taken John so well, the god was proud of him. At least Sherlock didn’t seem to be freaking out about learning who John really was, if anything the god was discovering that he might have found the perfect companion.

John rolled Sherlock up until he was on his shoulders allowing him to fuck down hard into his body. He did so without restraint, grunting loudly as their bodies slapped together, his heavy testicles smacking rudely against Sherlock’s perineum, it felt strange and wonderful at the same time.

Sherlock could not help the moans and sighs, but John seemed to enjoy each and every one. The feel of being penetrated was incredible, each fleshy stab bringing with it increasing delight. What he didn’t expect was John’s ability to bend himself into an even tighter curl and swallow Sherlock’s cock right down to the base, his long strange tongue slurping over his balls and even lapping at his wide stretched hole before almost winding around Sherlock’s shaft and pulling off, “My _god_ John!” Sherlock almost couldn’t process the different pleasures he was experiencing simultaneously.

John wasn’t going to last much longer, he was ready to finish claiming his pet. Bracing himself he timed the speed of his thrusts with those of his tongue and mouth. Sherlock’s deep groans rose in pitch as the tension grew. The erudite man had been reduced to monosyllables, gibberish he chanted as his long fingers gripped John’s head, urging him to take him and John obliged.

Sherlock’s orgasm was worth waiting for. He was stunning. His back arched and his ribs flared. The gasp that flew from his lips sounded surprised and quickly tamped down into a muted keen as Sherlock’s teeth clenched together, the intensity too much for him to vocalize more. John swallowed a bit and savored it, allowing his pet’s member to fall from his mouth and continue jetting seed onto his skin. Sherlock’s ass milked John’s cock, squeezing and rutting intently as his come spurted between them to lay in pearly strands across his hard belly, the sticky dribbles beginning to leak toward his chest as John kept him in place. “Just beautiful.”

Sherlock was in a daze. He had never once in his life had an orgasm that left him literally trembling from head to toe, his muscles like jelly and John wasn’t done with him. He pulled out abruptly and flipped Sherlock onto his belly. Keeping his thighs tight John knelt over him and pushed his cock back inside, squeezing between the ample muscles of his arse to pierce deeply. John hunched over his back, his words bitten off, the roughness of them making Sherlock tremble all over again, “Once I come inside you you’ll be mine forever. You aren’t some random shag Sherlock, I can get a piece of ass anywhere. You will be special to me for a very long time because you _are_ special, so worth having, _but only me_. I will not tolerate you wandering from me for any reason.”

“I promise John.”

“You don’t need to promise little one, I will make it so you will never,” John thrust harshly, “need” he began to increase his tempo, “anyone,” the dripping hole accepting him hungrily, “but” John ground down hard, ruthlessly, and Sherlock’s legs spread wide of their own accord, “Me.” John bit the back of Sherlock’s neck firmly as his hips began to thrust rapidly. There was nothing to fear, he could use Sherlock as hard or as savagely as he wished, there was nothing that could happen that John couldn’t heal if he needed to. “You are mine Sherlock, the seed I spill into you today will mark you for eternity.” John made his holy vow and came, roaring into the back of Sherlock’s head as he emptied himself deep into his pet’s body. Each spurt of seed was an extension of John’s divinity, not normal seed he would spill during a regular tumble. He was claiming Sherlock as his, his essence would keep his lover hale and hearty for as long as John desired.

John extracted himself slowly, enjoying how his cock distorted Sherlock’s hole so marvelously. Only a few drops of his seed leaked out, the rest doing what it was supposed to, altering Sherlock to make him John’s forever.

Sherlock lay there feeling used and replete at the same time. John had taken him, he hadn’t asked, he’d just taken him and it had been perfect. He was completely content with the state of things, willing and even eager to be at John’s sexual disposal, his vast mind awhirl with potential rites he could perform to worship his own personal god. He wasn’t expecting John to begin licking him again. The sated god wasn’t delving very far, but deep enough that Sherlock could feel the small tears and chafed flesh that was making itself known. John’s tongue lapped him over and over again until the soreness ebbed away leaving Sherlock feeling damp but in no discomfort whatever. He looked down and saw that John had returned to his normal unassuming everyday appearance, “No John, I want the real you.”

“This is the real me, just as much as the other is.” John shrugged himself back into his primal form and allowed his pet to cuddle close. Sherlock was always the strange one but then, that’s what John liked most about him. “It won’t be easy being mine, I’m demanding and I can be cruel.”

“Are you describing yourself or me John?” asked Sherlock sleepily, “I don’t see why anything will be any different except that you’ve promised to fuck me every way you can think of. You’ve always struck me as cleverer than most so I look forward to a comprehensive review of your eternity of sexual knowledge and adventures.”

“I should have guessed you’d be a cock hungry handful.” John was very content. Sherlock smelled like him now and always would. It would be a long time before he ever got bored with his consulting detective, if ever. Yes, eternity wasn’t looking so bad for this god, one worshipper was better than none, and no devotee would ever be as appealing to the deity known as John Watson than the now celestial concubine named Sherlock Holmes.

 


End file.
